


A Visit to Virginia

by Lenny9987



Series: Lenny's Imagine Claire and Jamie Prompts [11]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Other, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I combined two prompts for this one and that's part of why it's so long. </p><p>Prompt #1: Imagine Lord John back in VA but was ill. William is worried; sends word to the Ridge for Claire to come check in on him. Jamie (aching to see son & worried about John) & Bree w/ Mac family decide to go as well (aching to see brother and Lord J).</p><p>Prompt #2: William and Brianna w/ Roger and her kids, either in France or England, after the Revolutionary War is won. Maybe Brianna designs a system for piping water in one of William’s country residences, which becomes the talk of the town? And maybe she writes about it to her parents?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The letter from William was dated just days after the letter from Lord John Grey but both arrived at the Ridge together.

“It’s verra like John to downplay how ill he is,” Jamie said shaking his head and looking like he was about to tear the letter in his hand to pieces. “ _I find I have developed a bit of a chest cold this winter and if it would not be too much trouble for Mrs. Fraser to send along some of the camphor ointment to ease my breathing, I should be vastly appreciative,_ ” Jamie read aloud. “Ye’d think he’d naught more than a dripping nose from what he says.”

Claire had William’s letter in her hands and was carefully scouring the details he had included regarding his stepfather’s true condition in an effort to diagnose by proxy. “Well, if it is pneumonia then the breathing problems would be the most uncomfortable but there’s little good the camphor will do beyond temporary relief. Truthfully, there’s not much I can do without the proper antibiotics except treat the symptoms and make him comfortable.” She raised a hand to her chin as her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Can ye no use yer penicillin?” Jamie asked.

Claire shrugged. “I can bring some and try. I doubt that it will work on the pneumonia directly but if there’s something more at play that’s weakening his immune system, it could help boost it enough to help his body fight it off on its own.”

“Ye mean to go to them then?” Roger asked. “All the way to William’s estate in Virginia wi’ the war going on?”

“The war will be ending soon,” Brianna reminded her husband. “When it does end… there’s no telling what William and Lord John will be forced to do as far as the property is concerned. William might choose to sell it… I doubt he’ll abandon his title in England to take up permanent residence stateside.”

“No, I don’t expect he’ll do that,” Jamie agreed. _He may not feel he deserves it but he’s no about to tell the world the truth of his parentage either,_ Jamie thought to himself as a wave of guilt crashed over him where he stood. He leaned against the table and felt Claire’s hand on his arm offering support. It was his fault that the lad had found out the truth and lamented the way the knowledge tortured him—it was a self-consciousness Jamie remembered seeing in his father though for so long he’d not understood it, and now he’d inflicted it on his son. Of course, if he had found a way to evade Geneva’s manipulations then William wouldn’t exist at all and that was something Jamie would never trade. No, he would bear the guilt of the lass’ death and the brunt of the lad’s frustration and anger so long as it lasted—and when his son sought his help, Jamie would do what he could. “Time canna be wasted on this, is that right, Sassenach?”

Claire shook her head, “No, it shouldn’t. The sooner we can leave the better. We’ll just have to take our chances travelling over land. It would be faster to go to Wilmington and find passage to a port in Virginia but with the British blockade patrolling the coast…” She made a face at the prospect. “Between Ian and Roger I’m sure the Ridge will be fine.”

“As soon as you get there send word of the route you took and we’ll come along and join you,” Brianna insisted, pressing her point in anticipation of her parents’ objections. “Fanny will want to see William— _I_ want to see him now he knows the truth—and if Lord John is as sick as you think he might be… I want to see him again too. They’re… they’re family.”

Claire looked to Jamie to see what he thought of Brianna’s declaration. His jaw clenched but he nodded.

“We dinna want to overwhelm William,” he said carefully. “We’ll mention yer offer and if he agrees to invite ye, _then_ ye can come along—ye’ll no be showing up on his doorstep uninvited though,” Jamie insisted. “He’ll no thank ye for that.”

Brianna nodded and turned to leave the room pulling Roger along with her so they could begin the preparations for Claire and Jamie’s journey.

Jamie shook his head and sat down at his desk with a sigh.

“He’ll invite them,” Claire said quietly coming around behind Jamie and resting her hands on his shoulders. He nodded and let his head fall back against her skirt. “He’ll do it for Lord John if not from his own curiosity.” She slipped her fingers into his hair and began to massage his scalp, watching his eyes close in contentment.

“We can leave in the morning,” Jamie shifted the conversation. “With just the two of us we can travel over land easily enough so long as we can avoid getting ourselves too lost. Shouldna take more than a week to find the place.”

“I’ll go pack my medical kit with everything I should need,” Claire said bending to kiss the crown of Jamie’s head. “Regardless of what happens with John, William will need us.”

* * *

Once they crossed into Virginia it took a full day to find anyone who could point them in the right direction for William’s plantation and another day to reach it. They’d contemplated sending word ahead and resting overnight at an inn they came across but chose to rest over a meal there instead and press on; their anxiety over what they might find wouldn’t allow them much sleep no matter how tired they were and if they weren’t going to be able to enjoy the comfort of a proper bed anyway, they might as well save the cost altogether.

Claire bristled as they made their final approach to the plantation. She saw the dark figures of slaves working in the yard as their horses trotted up the path, heads turning in their direction briefly before swiveling back to speculate with their fellows.

“Claire…” Jamie said with a soft note of warning in his voice. “It’s no our place, remember.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled up on the reins in front of the large main house.

The door opened for them before they were down from their horses and a well-dressed house slave with a shock of gray hair descended the steps calling orders to the three following behind him.

“Who should I tell Master William is here to see him?” the man inquired.

“Mr. and Mrs. Fraser,” Jamie told him. “We were sent for.”

Clearly the old man recognized the name. “We expected we’d have word fore you’d come,” he apologized. He waved to one of the men working in the yard and instructed him to tend to their horses as he led Jamie and Claire inside.

“Given the urgency of the message we received we decided not to waste time,” Claire said familiarly. “If you’ll take us right to Lord John.” Jamie had only just managed to remove her medical box from her horse before the beast was led away and he was tightly clutching it to his chest, his knuckles white as his eyes darted about searching for a sign of William.

“Mother Claire,” William called having been alerted to the arrival of visitors by a member of the household. He came rushing down the main staircase, relief evident in his expression until he noted Jamie’s presence next to her. Then he made a conscious effort to compose himself and instructed the old man to supervise the preparation of a bedroom for his guests as well as being sure they were provided with food after their long journey.

“John,” Claire refocused William after the three of them were alone. “I need to examine him to see if there’s anything I can do for treatment.”

“This way.” William led them upstairs and to a room at the end of the hall. “I put him in a room with extra windows so that there would be less need for a fire in this oppressive heat. He tires easily but when he is awake the only way to keep him from overexerting himself is to be sure he can read and write from bed.”

“Typical,” Claire muttered as William knocked gently before pushing the door open and leading Claire and Jamie into the room.

Grey was clearly flustered by their arrival and set about straightening himself up but was quickly overtaken by a fit of coughing. Claire hurried to his bedside to help brace himself against the force shaking through his body.

“William, is there tea on hand or something else that he might have to drink? Not whisky or brandy though,” Claire requested. “And I’ll need something set up so we can boil water easily at the hearth. You’re right about the heat being oppressive but it might do his lungs some good if we can get him to inhale some steam directly. It will help the coughing to actually expel phlegm instead of simply depriving him of strength and breath.”

“I’ll have tea brought up directly,” he said then scurried from the room with a brief glance at Jamie.

Grey’s coughing tapered off and he mopped at his mouth with a handkerchief trying to wave Claire off and apologize but she forcibly repositioned his pillows behind him and set him up properly. “Don’t bother trying to talk right now,” she instructed, “you’ll only trigger another fit. Now, I want you to try and take a few deep breaths, hold them, and then let them out slowly so I can listen to your lungs.” She motioned for Jamie to set her medical case at the foot of the bed.

Having done so, Jamie began exploring the room coming to stand by the window. There was a small series of gardens that stretched around the corner of the house to the back—one was a small flower garden with a single bench good for a brief stroll and rest; the other was a larger kitchen garden more like the one Claire kept at the Ridge.

“What exactly are you planning to do with that?” Grey’s weak voice asked with a note of panic.

“I’m going to inject you with it and hopefully it will assist your body fighting off the infection in your lungs,” she told him as she filled one of her precious syringes with her freshest batch of makeshift penicillin.

“Ye had our letter that Brianna and her husband have returned to the Ridge, did ye not?” Jamie asked turning to distract his friend as Claire set about her ministrations.

“Yes it proved to be quite an interesting topic of conversation at dinner when it arrived.” Grey winced as Claire pressed the plunger down on her syringe and then set it aside.

“Tea,” William announced holding the door open for a maid carrying a laden tray. “And I know that you’ve brought most of the things you’ll need with you but if you wish to replenish your stores you’ve free access to the gardens as well.”

“Thank you,” Claire nodded and smiled to William.

“This is all a… lot of fuss over nothing,” Grey feebly objected.

“I told you not to waste your breath talking,” Claire reminded him before setting about preparing his tea. She pulled a few things from her medical box and added them to the infusion before handing it over and watching him drink it. “If William will show me the way, I’ll see what might be useful in a mustard plaster for your chest. I want to curb the coughing as much as possible so you don’t accidentally fracture a rib and puncture a lung. So far your fever isn’t dangerously high and it appears to be holding steady. Sleep would be the best thing for you so Jamie, why don’t you tell him how things are faring on the Ridge and make it as boring as possible.” She set her medical box out of the way and gave her husband a small kiss on the cheek before leading William out of the room.

 


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as they were in the hallway again, William let out a tense breath.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t give you more warning of when we would arrive,” Claire apologized.

“No, I summoned you with all due haste and that is what you provided. I’m glad you’re both here,” he said with sincerity. “While I’m still not always sure what to make of myself when… when Jamie’s around… I do find your presence to be particularly reassuring.”

“I’m glad. And… your… that is… Lord John mentioned that you had heard about Brianna and her family moving back to the Ridge,” Claire fumbled through broaching the subject as they approached the doors that opened to the gardens. A kitchen maid raced out after them to hand Claire a basket and a knife, bobbing her head by way of a curtsey as she hurried back to her chores inside.

“I had heard that, yes,” William responded carefully turning his attention to a cluster of bluebells.

“She asked us to tell you that she wishes Lord John a full and speedy recovery. He was… a good friend to her a number of years back now when she was carrying Jem,” Claire said slowly as she tiptoed around the delicate truth of the situation. “She remembers you fondly as well.” Claire kept her attention on the herbs that were neatly sequestered—mostly those that would be commonly used for cooking. She carefully gathered some bay leaves for tea—Lord John would have to get used to drinking a lot of tea in the coming days.

“It’s kind of her.”

“Fanny’s doing well too,” she continued, eyeing William intently. “She’s much more comfortable speaking now and will babble at length if you let her.” He merely nodded as he continued to poke at the bluebells.

It was clear that William’s attention wasn’t on the subject of Brianna, which was where Claire wanted it to be, so she stood up and squared off facing him waiting until he noticed. He flushed when he did.

“I’m going to do everything I can to keep his condition from worsening,” she promised him. “He’ll need rest and to follow my instructions but I’m confident right now.”

“He had an injury to his chest years ago,” William explained, “when he was fighting abroad—Austria or Prussia, I can’t remember which. That won’t…”

“I know—I’ve seen the scars from where the shrapnel was removed. And it shouldn’t make things any worse than they are.” She reached a hand out and put it on William’s forearm giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s just something that’s going to take time for him to get through. It should be a bit boring, actually. He’ll rest a lot—even if I have to slip something into this tea to _make_ him rest. The best thing for you to do now is find something with which you can distract yourself.”

William nodded and took a deep breath. “I should use the time to work through my correspondence with my steward in England.” William rubbed his hand over his face in a manner that caused Claire’s breath to catch—he looked so much like Jamie when he did that. “I’ve been… reluctant to do so for some time now—to think of anything having to do with my duties as… as Earl of Ellesmere. But it seems the house is in need of some repairs and my man suggests that it might be a good opportunity to rebuild one of the older parts of the house. Turns out I’m rather useless when it comes to figuring out how to go about that sort of thing. I’m rubbish with understanding the plans he sent and haven’t the faintest idea for how to improve them. Honestly I don’t have much memory of the place.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “You wouldn’t happen to have a mind for architecture as well as healing, would you?”

Claire laughed quietly. “No, as a matter of fact I don’t. Jamie was the one who designed and built the house on the Ridge for us—both of them in fact—though he asked for my input on the design of my surgery.”

“So there’s something aside from my hair that I _did_ get from my mother, I suppose,” William joked with no real mirth.

“You might not have inherited Jamie’s capabilities on that front, but your sister did,” Claire told him. “If anything, she’s a better mind for it than Jamie does—at least as far as dreaming up new schemes goes. He aims at simple functionality and is content to stop there but Bree’s aims are a bit more fanciful.”

William’s brow furrowed at the prospect, his curiosity evident. “Do her notions ever work?”

Claire bent to cut a sprig of mint and add it to her basket—it might prove useful in making something more palatable later. “Have you seen the syringe in my medical kit? It’s rather new but—”

“I’ve seen them before though I wasn’t aware you possessed one,” he interrupted with mild surprise.

“I have two, in fact. Bree helped design them and oversaw their manufacture. Well, before I had those to work with—it was some years ago now—Bree managed to develop an effective substitute using the fangs of a dead rattlesnake.”

William’s eyes shot open so quickly and his brows jumped so high that Claire laughed outright.

“And it worked?”

“Quite well though the wax seals that held things together had to be refreshed from time to time. It was delicate but it did work.”

“Well, I don’t know that the house in England will require anything so drastic,” William commented. “Perhaps… do you think she would mind offering some suggestions if I sent the plans to her for her opinion?”

“I think… she would prefer to be able to discuss them with you face to face,” Claire hinted as gently as she could.

“She knows, then?”

Claire nodded. “It would mean a lot to her if she could introduce you to her family—her husband and her children—your niece and nephew. And… it might do you some good to have more family around you.”

He looked indignant for a moment and she thought he might have a word or two to say on the subject of who he considered his family but he respected the ties of blood too much to deny them however discomforting he might find them to be.

“It will be some time yet before Lord John is back to where he was and it would mean a lot to Bree if she could see him again should the worst… And Fanny too, is eager to see you again.”

At the mention of Fanny she could see William’s resolve waver and she knew she had him. He knew it too—just as Jamie so often did.

“If it were anyone else making the suggestion…” he said quietly, looking away from her.

She strode over and slipped her hand through his arm, her basket secure over her arm with the knife tucked safely away inside. “I know and there will be moments when you’ll think you regret it, but in the end I think you’ll at least be contented with knowing you gave it a chance; whatever else happens, you won’t be stuck wondering ‘what if.’”

* * *

In the weeks it took for word to travel to Brianna and Roger on the Ridge and for them to arrive, Grey’s continued to deteriorate though Claire insisted it was manageable and getting worse before he got better wasn’t entirely unexpected.

“He’s still over-exerting himself,” she complained to Jamie who sat and listened while she paced and tried to work out a solution to the problem. “If I only had the proper antibiotics—or some way to manufacture them,” she continued. “All I can do is make him comfortable—treat his symptoms and hope for the best. I hate feeling so helpless!”

As her frustration was spent, Jamie rose and crossed to wrap her in his arms. “There’s naught we can do but what we’ve been doing and pray he’ll recover.”

“You handle the praying and I’ll keep trying to see if there’s more I can do medically,” she suggested in an exhausted voice, leaning her cheek against his chest.

“Aye. I can manage that.”

* * *

As they crossed into Virginia and sent word ahead of their approaching arrival, Brianna wondered at the wisdom of her idea to haul themselves and three children so far for a visit of undetermined length.

“It was so much easier… then,” she lamented quietly to Roger as they settled into a room at an inn for the evening. There was only one bed in the room so they were all trying to share the space making it incredibly hot and sweaty with everyone touching everyone else.

“Ye somehow managed to bring Jem and Mandy through the stones all on yer own,” he reminded her. “And then we made it to the Ridge wi’ them as well.”

“Yes, and none of that was as easy as popping them in the car and driving across town to the grocery store or hopping a flight from London to Boston,” she said with a yawn. “If we were back _then_ , we could have piled the kids in the car and reached William’s in a few hours. It’s been over a week and it’ll still take another day or two to get there.”

“Are ye having doubts about seeing yer brother again?” Roger asked, narrowing his eyes at Brianna. “Ye were eager enough before.”

“I know. And I do want to see him again but… what if… I mean, he _knows_ now and from what Mama and Da have had to say…” She frowned. “And then there’s what might have happened with Lord John since they got there.”

“Ye’ll feel better about it when we get there,” he assured her reaching over the children’s limbs to find her hand and give it a little squeeze.


	3. Chapter 3

It didn’t take long for Claire to notice that Jamie and William were actively avoiding being in a room alone together, probably because they spent so much time quietly watching one another when she was there with them. One would sit by Grey’s bedside to read aloud to him—so he wouldn’t strain himself—while the other stood at the window, presumably gazing at the yard, or sat at John’s desk going through their correspondence, both men having matters that needed their attention elsewhere.

Claire pressed for the three of them to take their meals together for some semblance of formality, though more often than not, William would volunteer to keep his stepfather company and be sure he ate.

On those occasions when Claire succeeded in ushering both her husband and his son from the room in order to examine Grey with a measure of privacy, the two would immediately head in opposite directions, a pair of magnets whose like poles she was trying unsuccessfully to force together.

“They need… to talk,” Grey wheezed as he watched the phenomenon through the open door of his chambers. Claire closed the door and moved to the bed. She held her makeshift stethoscope ready and had one arm braced for Grey to lean against as he sat up and forward—she needed to listen to his lungs from various positions to gauge the progression of the pneumonia.

“They’re Frasers,” she told Grey, aware that as she took her time listening to each shallow but thick inhalation and exhalation he had increased difficulty holding himself up without her help. She helped ease him back against the pillows. “I’ve learned by now that it can be dangerous to force them into that sort of situation. I can suggest it and try to ease them into it, but forcing it only means it’ll take longer for them to get over themselves when they do come to it.”

Grey tried to laugh and his chest began to spasm but he recovered quickly—did that signal overall improvement or had he simply been suffering the symptoms so long he was learning new ways to cope with them?

“It won’t… become con… sumption, will it?” Grey asked, changing the subject.

“No,” Claire said firmly as she began putting her things back in her medical box. She would save her lecture on the differences between consumption and pneumonia until she needed to put him to sleep. “In fact, you’ve reached a point where you’re not getting any worse.”

“But I’m… not getting… better either,” Grey pointed out.

“Not yet but these things take time and rest. The first you have plenty of and the second… I don’t know whether it will be easier for you to get some rest when Brianna and Roger arrive or not,” she admitted.

“How far… did her letter… say they were?”

“They should arrive any day now—possibly as early as this afternoon.”

“One more… way for… Jamie and William… to… avoid each other,” Grey lamented. He had initially been enthusiastic when William told him of the plan to invite Brianna and her family to stay but as his condition had grown worse, Grey had grown irritated at the thought of having even more people hovering about him.

Claire shook her head. “I don’t think so but I’m not prepared to argue with you about it now. You need to rest.”

“I’m not… going to rest… until you’ve argued… with me about it,” Grey said stubbornly.

“I’ve spent more time with stubborn Frasers than you have, I guarantee it,” she said, “and while I’m becoming more aware that the Greys have their own brand of stubborn, I’d still lay money on the Frasers any day. And Brianna’s bringing two more with her when she and Roger show up. What she can’t do to bend her father and brother to her will her children will finish the job. Now, sleep if you can. I’ll do what _I_ can to keep Jamie and William from disturbing you.”

* * *

When Claire had endeavored to usher him and William from John’s sickroom so she could tend to her patient privately, Jamie had met his son’s eyes in the hallway and seen the mirror to his own reluctance and confusion. William turned away first, mumbling something incoherent as he headed down the hall to his library. Jamie knew he should have followed him—that the two of them were long overdue for some sort of discussion… but he didn’t know what he should say. And the longer he went without saying something, the more impossible it became to think of saying _anything_.

Claire had assured him that John would be all right—she was confident the worst of the danger had passed. He was relieved, of course. Things had been… different between him and John in the wake of the incident with Claire but sitting at John’s beside, discussing literature and chess, they had managed once again to find an equilibrium in their friendship. When William and Claire were absent from the room, it became safe to discuss the young man but they rarely did.

“He must… make up his own… mind… what to make of you,” Grey had insisted.

“Aye. And I’ll do my part when he’s ready—I’ll no force him to anything,” Jamie had countered. And that had been it. Jamie didn’t know what he wanted from his son—knew it was unfair for him to even consider wanting _anything_ from him. What his _son_ might want of him, however, and what he’d be willing to give… Jamie knew he would do anything for his children—but how to let William know that…

He turned away and headed down the stairs and out into the yard. He needed to do something more than just turn the same problem round and round in his head. Before long he found himself in the stables, the familiar smells immediately calming his mind. The laborers had come to expect him to appear unannounced and take over some of their chores. At first they had objected—it wasn’t his place as a guest of the house to do physical work of that nature. Once William had made it clear that Jamie was to be allowed to do whatever he wanted with the horses, the others shut their mouths and gave him a wide berth before opening them again.

He could speak his fears aloud to the horses—in Ghádhlig, of course, lest someone overhear—and they would listen patiently, nodding or shaking their heads with an understanding beyond the human experience. As he headed down the line of stalls, he felt a tug on his arm as one of the horses—a ruddy and playful mare that had taken to him quickly—got hold of his shirt with her teeth.

He turned back and laid his hand against the horse’s neck, grinning and addressing her in soft Ghádhlig. She snorted at him looking for a snack—he’d brought castoffs from the kitchen garden on several occasions.

“I dinna have anything for ye lass,” he apologized. “No this time, anyway. But I promise ye’ll be spoilt enough when the weans get here. Aye, there’s no stopping them when they take to a creature, so as long as ye make a respectable first impression, ye’ll be settled for the duration of their stay.”

The horse swung its head, suddenly distracted, ears pricking at a noise outside. Jamie ducked out of the way and turned his own attentions in the same direction.

“Aye, lass,” he said with a final stroke to the horse’s neck, “I hear it too.”

He followed the sounds of the growing commotion around to the front of the house. Brianna and Roger were standing by the side of the wagon—Roger giving direction for the trunks, horses, and wagon while Brianna had her own set of instructions for the children.

“Granda!” Mandy exclaimed, running over and launching herself into his arms.

“Da,” Brianna called a moment later, hurrying over for a hug of her own.

Jamie walked to join Roger and Jem with Mandy hanging from his neck.

“Ye made it then,” he remarked to his son-in-law. “The route we sent ye by…”

“It travelled well, though there were a few tight spots wi’ the wagon here,” Roger told him.

“We nearly rolled over going round a bend,” Jem informed his grandfather. “The wheel slipped off the path and came clean off.”

Jamie turned to Roger who, along with Brianna, was rolling his eyes. “Aye, it came _clean_ off. It wasna broken and didna take more than half an hour to fetch it and settle it back on the axle. Caused only a wee delay.”

“I had to chase it down,” Jem added.

“Where’s Fanny?” Jamie asked, settling Mandy more firmly in his arms.

Brianna’s brows rose as she shifted her gaze to the front steps of the house.

The main door was open with William on the top step. He was bent forward, Fanny’s chin in his hand and her mouth opened wide, her fingers poking inside as she explained to him the procedure Claire had performed. When he released her chin and straightened, Fanny continued to talk, demonstrating the improvement in her speech and answering the questions he had for her about her new life on the Ridge.

Brianna gave her father a significant look before ushering Jem ahead of her up towards the main house. Roger fell into step at her side a few moments later as their trunks and belongings were being unloaded.

“Mrs. MacKenzie,” William said with a brief bow to Brianna before turning and offering his hand to Roger, “Mr. MacKenzie.”

“This is Jem,” Roger said putting a hand on the growing boy’s shoulder. “And our lass, Mandy,” he nodded to the girl in Jamie’s arms. She was peering at William with her green eyes. Most of her dark curls had escaped the ribbons Brianna had used to tie them back and the girl was leaning into the side of her grandfather’s neck so that her hair was twinning with his.

Jem reached up with his own hand as a greeting to William. The action startled William but he grinned with amusement as he took the boy’s hand to shake it.

“I have a few rooms that have been made ready for you,” William told the gathered MacKenzies. “If you’ll come inside, your things will be carried up and I’ll have fresh water brought to you as well. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable when you’ve had a chance to wash away the dust.”

“Thank you…” Brianna said but stalled, unsure what to call him.

William noted it and reassured her, “I’d be pleased if you will call me William.”

“Only if you promise to call me Brianna or Bree,” she told him with a warm smile.

Unsure, William turned to Roger as though about to ask formal permission. Roger spoke first. “Roger or Roger Mac—I answer to both.”

William’s jaw clenched and his gaze went involuntarily to Jamie. He still had difficulties reconciling his comforting memories of Mac the groom at Helwater with the man he now knew to be his biological father. Jamie was preoccupied with Mandy who had his face in her firm grasp and was busy evaluating his various features, counting out the gray hairs on his head and tracing the line of an old break at the bridge of his nose. There were a few bits of straw clinging to his shirt and kilt—he’d been to the stables again. As the girl laughed at Jamie—using her hands to poke at his puffed out cheeks till he blew raspberries in her face—he heard an echo of his own delight as Mac led him around the paddock astride one of his grandfather’s horses.

“Bree!” Claire cried from the top of the stairs before rushing down.

“Mama!” Brianna dashed to meet and embrace her.

“Germain stayed behind,” Claire observed as Fanny scampered off and slipped under Claire’s arm, the older woman hugging her to her side as she listened to her daughter’s news from home.

Roger followed the trunks up the stairs and down the hall with Jamie and Mandy a few steps behind. He called to Jem but the boy remained planted in place watching William.

“What should _I_ call ye?” the boy asked. “Should it be William, like my mam?”

“If you like.”

“I’m sorry to hear about yer da bein’ sick,” Jem offered. “Mam says Grannie will set him to rights again.”

“Thank you… Jem, they called you?” William inquired moving towards the stairs. The boy fell into step beside him.

“Aye. My name’s Jeremiah—after Da’s father—but I’m called Jem.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Mam says I met ye once before but it was when I was a wee thing. I think I remember ye though.”

“I believe I remember you as well,” William confessed. “It wasn’t for more than a few minutes, I’m afraid.”

Jem nodded dismissively. The boy was determined to be as civil and grown-up as possible as they climbed the steps to the landing where Claire and Brianna still talked. Fanny had followed the others up to their rooms.

“Will ye show me around? After I clean up, that is,” Jem requested.

“It would be my pleasure,” William told him. “You won’t mind if I invite your parents and sister to join us, will you?”

“Nah, they can come too. I’ll go tell Mam to hurry up so we dinna have to wait.”

William smiled as Jem bounded excitedly up the last few steps to give his grandmother a quick hug before tugging on Brianna’s hand to pull her up the rest of the stairs. Claire remained on the landing, waiting for William.

“You’re going to give a tour of the grounds, I hear,” she remarked. “It will be good timing too. From what Brianna says they could use a little time to run around outside and I made John promise to get some uninterrupted rest.”

“He’s doing all right?” William asked. He knew he asked the question too often and had been making a concerted effort to limit the number of times he asked in a given day—it had only been four or five times since breakfast.

“Yes. He’s not getting worse which is the first step to improving,” Claire assured him. “Now, you have some young guests looking forward to being entertained. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on your step-father while you’re busy with them.”


	4. Chapter 4

William was surprised by the number of questions the children asked as he led the MacKenzies on a tour of his house and the grounds. He hadn’t been around young children much at all and while he did find Jem, Mandy, and Fanny charming, they were also exhausting.

He stood with Roger, Brianna, and Jamie near the kitchen entrance of the house. Jem was busy chasing the two girls around the lawn, the three of them screeching in the grass and sunlight.

“It’s the most they’ve been able to run free in near two weeks,” Roger remarked, ostensibly to Jamie but loud enough for anyone to hear and respond if they wished.

“There were a few straight stretches where we let them run ahead a ways and back but when you don’t know what might be waiting in the trees…” Brianna trailed off with a shrug.

“They’ll sleep well for ye tonight,” Jamie chuckled. “Be lucky if they dinna pass out in their suppers.”

“What is that Mandy is holding?” William asked Brianna. “She seems to be waving it about in the others’ faces.”

Brianna chuckled sounding just like Jamie had a moment before. “That’s Esmeralda—her doll. She carries it with her everywhere. The hair is supposed to be red but it’s been so long since I’ve been able to wash it properly you wouldn’t know.”

William smiled. “You’re right—I wouldn’t have guessed. If it’s so dear to her, she must have had it for some time.”

“An old friend of my mother’s gave it to her when she was learning to walk.”

Roger snorted at a memory. “The doll was near as big as she was. She used to clutch it in her arms and take a few steps before she’d trip and pitch forward, landing on the doll like it was some sort of safety cushion.”

“Was this Joe?” Jamie asked Brianna. “The one that gave the lass the doll.”

Brianna nodded. “I wish you could’ve met him, Da. I think the two of you would’ve gotten along well.”

“Has he passed on, then?” William asked, trying not to think of the fact that he was actively participating in the same conversation as Jamie. They weren’t addressing each other directly, of course.

“Not the last I had heard, but it isn’t likely Mama will get a chance to see him again,” Brianna explained.

William didn’t quite understand what she meant—that it was unlikely Mother Claire would be traveling as far north as Boston, which was where he had learned from Roger they had been living for the last few years, presumably.

“Well, I hope you are all lucky enough to see one another again,” William said encouragingly. “Perhaps he will be able to visit you at the Ridge.”

Brianna smiled with amusement while Roger and Jamie looked to one another leaving William feeling like he was on the outside of an inside joke.

“I uh… I should go inside and see how Mother Claire is doing upstairs with my… with my father,” he excused himself self-consciously.

“Would you mind if I come too?” Brianna asked, not waiting to follow him but stepping past him towards the door. “I want to say ‘hello’ to John and then we can get right into looking over those plans you mentioned in your letter,” she suggested.

“Oh…” William exclaimed, startled into immobility.

“Ye’d best catch her up,” Jamie advised while Roger nodded in agreement. “She’ll no wait for ye and I dinna think ye want her poking through yer things.”

“She’s been yearning for that kind of work for some time now,” Roger asserted. “Soon as our cabin was finished she was itching to design the next thing.”

William blinked before turning and walking steadily into the house. As soon as the door shut behind him he picked up his pace, still uncertain what to make of these strangers that were trying so hard to make him feel like part of their family. But though he had accepted the fact that they shared blood, he couldn’t break the habit of _watching_ them. He was still grappling with whether he _wanted_ to be a part of them and while he worked to make up his mind about that, he found himself desperately trying to figure out how they worked, how they functioned—what it was that made them so obviously (so lovingly) a family.

Brianna stood awkwardly at his father’s bedside, her arms folded over her stomach. Claire had moved to the table by the window, which she had taken over with her medical box soon after their arrival.

“I trust your journey… was uneventful?” Grey inquired of Brianna.

“Relatively speaking,” she said with a nod. “When Mama allows it I’ll bring the children by for introductions—Jem’s grown at least a foot since you saw him last and Mandy…”

“I would like that… thank you.” He saw William hovering in the doorway and Brianna turned too, stepping back a bit to make room for him and relaxing as Claire came nearer as well.

“How do you feel?” William asked with his brow furrowed.

His father rolled his eyes and turned to Claire. “I would say that… I’m feeling better… but I’m afraid… my physician might… disagree with my assessment.”

“How you’re feeling and how you’re doing are two different things,” Claire pointed out. “If you’re feeling better though, I would say that it’s a positive sign.”

Grey turned back to William and Brianna. “There you have it,” he said, taking a deep breath by way of demonstration—the rattle in his chest was still pronounced but he managed to hold a coughing fit at bay. “Now… Brianna mentioned something… about looking over plans… for your estate.”

“Yes,” she exclaimed, turning to William. “We should get to that and let John have that undisturbed rest—it seems to be working for him.”

William cast a last glance at his father, reluctant to leave his side—especially when it meant spending time alone in the company of his bold… _sister_.

“I will come check on you again later,” he promised before nodding to Claire and leading Brianna out of the sick room.

“Poor William,” Claire remarked to Grey. “He looks a bit lost, doesn’t he.”

* * *

William was relieved to discover that when he showed Brianna the plans his steward had sent him, she set to work examining and going over them with him immediately. It was strictly professional and entirely focused on the pages in front of them. She inquired for some paper and a pencil and then began sketching out ideas for what might be done, even scribbling estimates for the amounts and possible costs of various materials he would need.

“Of course, this is based on the prices I saw when I was last at Wilmington,” she informed him, underscoring the total she’d calculated. “They’ll undoubtedly be different in England.”

“It’s impressive,” William said with obvious awe as he took in the quick work that Brianna had made of the renovations his steward had suggested—including more than a few natural expansions that shouldn’t add much more to the costs. “How did you learn to do this?”

Brianna shrugged but was clearly pleased with his open admiration.

“It’s the kind of thing you pick up when you’re helping build something like the Ridge,” she said tapping the end of her pencil against the desk. “Everyone has to pitch in and help out where they can. I enjoy building and engineering projects and I’m not afraid to ask questions. And Da’s always great about answering them.”

“Yes, Mother Claire said he has a bit of skill when it comes to this sort of thing,” William admitted, his tone adjusting slightly, his enthusiasm ebbing. “She was also right when she said your abilities went beyond simple practicalities. How long do you think it will take to formalize some drawings that I can send to my steward? I should like to get them off to him as soon as possible—anticipating his response might be the first time I’ll be _eager_ to hear from him. And once the work is complete, you and your family will have to come for an extended visit to see it in person.”

The words were out of his mouth before he’d properly thought the invitation through but when they registered, he held himself steady rather than give himself away by looking up at Brianna suddenly and letting her see any traces of mortification or regret that might be in his expression.

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see how things go,” she said with what might be mistaken for diplomacy but there was a sadness in her tone that made him finally look up at her. “The war,” she reminded him. “I doubt that relations between England and… _us_ will be what they were before it all started.”

William nodded. “No, I suppose not.”

“What will you do?” she inquired, the somber moment passing and her curiosity evident. “Would you sell this place and go back to England for good? Or… would you consider staying here after it’s all over? It probably won’t be easy for loyalists—”

“You’re assuming the Continental Army will triumph,” William pointed out with an amused smile. “But I’ve served in the British Army—we have a great deal more experience, men, and resources than our enemies and it won’t take much longer for the matter to be settled. I can only hope for everyone in your family that…”

“That if it happens they don’t come and arrest Da?” she finished for him. But she was smiling in a way that unnerved him. “I’m not worried about him or about the Continental Army. But perhaps it would be best if we avoid discussing politics moving forward,” she joked. “And religion too, I think—aren’t those the two topics it’s said no one should discuss when you’re trying to be civil, politics and religion?”

“Without politics or religion, what topics are we left with?” William motioned for Brianna to take the chair next to the desk while he resumed his seat behind it, relaxing the muscles and vertebrae that had started to stiffen from leaning over the building plans.

“Food… culture… family,” Brianna offered.

There was a ruckus in the hall that stopped outside the door and was shortly followed by several knocks.

“Yes?” William called, rising from his feet. “Who’s there?”

“Is Mam done yet?” Mandy’s voice replied. “Jem was being naughty and he’s torn my dress. Fanny’s got dirt all over hers too and—”

William had crossed to the door and opened it before she could finish her litany of grievances. She blinked up at him for a moment before slipping past him and scurrying to Brianna to be scooped up and settled in her lap.

“See,” Mandy whined, twisting so Brianna could locate what was actually a minor tear along the seam where the skirt of Mandy’s dress met the waist—it was the kind of tear inflicted by someone accidentally stepping on the hem.

“That should be easily mended,” Brianna assured Mandy with sympathy tempered by skepticism. “And as for Fanny’s dress, I’ll have to see it to be sure but I’m sure whatever dirt it’s acquired can be washed out. Now as for blaming Jem in all this…”

Mandy shook her head before Brianna could scold her for trying to get her brother into worse trouble than he likely deserved. “Da and Grandda saw it and called Jem away. I dinna ken what they said to him but I think they were headed out by the stables.” Mandy glanced up at William briefly before bringing a hand up to block her mouth as she whispered loudly towards her mother’s ear. “I think he’s gonna get his arse skelped.”

“Mandy!” Brianna exclaimed while William tried to turn his choking laugh into a cough. “You know better than to say things like that,” Brianna scolded, her voice dropping in volume and gaining a decided edge.

Mandy sighed. “Am I gonna get my arse skelped too?”

“Worse,” William chimed in before Brianna could think of anything to say. “You’re going to have to sit next to me at dinner tonight.”

Mandy’s skeptical expression tried William’s control over his own.

“How is that worse than a skelped arse?” she asked.

“Will you stop repeating that?” Brianna exclaimed with a chuckle that undermined her parenting efforts.

“I talk a lot at dinner,” William explained. “And it’s usually very boring. In fact, your grandmother has had me take some of my meals upstairs with my father just because she knows it will put him to sleep. Of course, he _does_ need the rest and your grandparents need to be able to finish a meal of their own now and again without falling asleep in it themselves.”

Mandy laughed and Brianna smiled. In fact, William became very aware of the way Brianna was looking at him.

“Esmeralda and I will let ye know if ye start to get too boring,” Mandy informed him before sliding off Brianna’s lap. “If ye ken when to stop ye ought to be able to get better and I dinna mind helping to teach ye.”

Brianna and William managed to contain their laughter until after Mandy had left the room again.

“What is it?” he asked, buoyed by the levity of Mandy’s interruption. “Why is it you keep looking at me like that?”

Brianna pursed her lips a moment before responding. “I don’t know that you’ll appreciate the answer.”

While William felt himself sinking a little bit, he remained in better spirits than he had been for weeks. “I reminded you of _him_ just now, didn’t I?”

Brianna nodded. “It’s the kind of thing he’d have said,” she confirmed. Rising from her seat she set her pencil carefully on the desk next to the sketches she’d made. “It isn’t the worst thing in the world, though—being like him.” She let her remark settle for a moment before motioning to the drawings. “If you have something larger and sturdier for me to work with—and a proper ruler and a compass—I can get started on drawing up something more accurate tomorrow.”


	5. Chapter 5

Claire watched Jamie watching William through dinner that night, stealing occasional glances of her own throughout. Brianna and Roger exchanged significant glances too while Jem spent much of the meal rolling his eyes at the ridiculous behavior of the adults in his life.

While Mandy sat at William’s left hand, Fanny sat at his right effectively excusing him from any conversation with the other adults at the table—a fact that he found to be a surprising relief.

“And where is your little friend?” William inquired of Mandy as they settled in for their soup.

“Mam wouldna let me bring her to table,” she explained between slurps of soup. “She was too dirty from playing outside and Mam didna want anything getting into the food.”

“And what did you say her name is?”

“Esmeralda—it’s from a book,” Mandy explained with an air of cultured importance.

“A book?” William noted with an impressed smile that made Fanny laugh. “And what about you, Fanny? What are your dolls called?”

“I dinna have any dolls like Mandy,” Fanny explained, a slight Scots tinge slipping into her speech from time to time. “But Jem says Jamie can make me one for my birthday if I ask him,” she shrank down a little in her seat, “but I’ve been too afraid to ask him yet.”

“I’ll ask Grandda for ye, if ye like,” Mandy offered. “It takes him a while to carve things,” Mandy began explaining to William, “cause of his hand but he likes to do it. Says it gets Grannie off his back about exercisin’ it regular like.”

William smiled and further up the table Claire made note of it.

“Mandy has him thoroughly charmed,” Claire observed to Jamie and Brianna quietly.

Brianna chuckled into her soup before setting it aside to be taken away and replaced with a clean plate ready for the main course. “You should have heard her earlier in the library,” Brianna laughed to herself. “If she keeps getting that kind of attention from him, he’ll have a hard time getting rid of her.”

“It’s the longest he’s stayed down at dinner since we came,” Claire observed. “The most he’s said to anyone too, I believe.”

“How is John?” Jamie asked, shifting the conversation. “He seemed in decent spirits when I went to fetch ye from his room for dinner.”

“His spirits are improving which could be exactly the turn he needs right now. I think he might do even better if he could see you and William—” but the exasperated pursing of his lips kept her from finishing the thought.

“So Bree, how long do ye think it will take ye to draw up plans?” Roger asked, tactfully changing the subject.

Brianna sighed. “Not long enough,” she lamented. “It’s a pretty straightforward project to design and I’m too excited to really draw it out the way I want to.”

Jamie snorted. “Ye could always offer some suggestions for improvements here,” he joked before looking up suddenly, afraid Brianna would have taken his advice seriously.

She laughed though—and Claire and Roger joined in though their amusement stemmed from Jamie’s immediate regret. “I don’t know that there’s much that could be recommended here aside from better accommodations for the uh… _on site staff_ ,” she said, phrasing her response carefully lest she be overheard and give offense—her tone carried her judgment where her words refrained however. “I don’t want to open up _that_ can of worms though.”

“Well, with any luck, John will be properly on the mend soon,” Jamie said with encouragement before taking a large bite of a roll and effectively ended his participation in the conversation.

* * *

The household fell into a bit of a routine over the next week. Brianna and William would spend the morning in his library going over the plans for what Brianna would draw up that day—making the necessary calculations and deciphering what his steward might be hinting at between the lines of his letter. Mandy and Fanny would join them in the afternoon, ostensibly to watch quietly as Brianna worked but more often than not they played together with Esmeralda while chatting with William. Jem had taken to helping Jamie with the horses in the morning before watching Jamie play chess with his recuperating friend in the afternoon. Claire checked in on Grey just after breakfast, at midday, before dinner, and again just before bed to be sure he was comfortable for the night. The rest of her day was spent poking around the estate’s herb garden—making small improvements and noting gaps in the inventory—and tending to anyone on the estate in need of medical attention, whether it was a small as removing a splinter or as large as suturing the wound one slave received when the fastenings of the scythe he worked with failed and the blade caught him in the calf. Roger spent his mornings at Grey’s side, the two of them becoming fast and unlikely friends. Roger didn’t play chess as well as Jamie did, but he was more than happy to read aloud to Grey and exercise his voice—and Grey was kind enough to listen to various sermons that Roger was working on composing for his congregation when their visit ended and they returned home to the Ridge once more.

“I’m a bit out of practice,” Roger apologized again as he cleared his throat and sipped water after a particularly tricky one. He had stopped and started several times throughout, making notes and alterations as he went.

“Well, you haven’t put me to sleep with it,” Grey joked, “so I doubt you’ll put any members of your flock to sleep with it either.” Grey felt a tickle in his chest but was able to sit himself up properly and reach for his own glass of water to relieve it. Claire still wouldn’t let him out of bed but his coughing had subsided significantly and his breathing had vastly improved. Two more days in bed and she would allow him to begin rebuilding his physical strength—walking about the room to start and eventually making his way down the stairs. It would be at least a fortnight more before he was recovered enough for the Frasers and MacKenzies to make their journey back to the Ridge.

“Soon ye’ll be safe to move about and I’ll lose my captive audience,” Roger joked in response.

Grey laughed with only a slight underlying wheeze.

“Where is Claire?” he inquired of Roger, glancing past him to the clock on the mantle. He squinted to make out the time—it was still early in the morning but she should have finished breakfasting unless some emergency had called her away sooner. “She’s usually here by now or am I mistaken about the time?”

“William is going with some of his men to town to fetch supplies,” Roger informed him. “I believe Claire had a few requests for the apothecary and some recommendations for plants she thinks ye ought to have in the kitchen garden.”

Downstairs Jamie was pacing back and forth from across the room while Claire gave her list of herbs to William with directions for the apothecary. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath—it shouldn’t be so difficult but after so many weeks of dancing around one another, they’d grown too comfortable talking through those around them rather than to one another directly.

He stepped forward and reached out, taking the list from Claire’s hands and planting a quick kiss to her temple before she could object.

“I’ll go wi’ them,” he told her. “I ken yer preferences better’n anyone and can be sure ye end up wi’ what ye want.” He met and held her gaze as the pleased smile broke slowly over her face. More than the herbs for her medicine box or seeds for the garden, this was what she wanted—for him to spend time with William, to talk with him and come to some sort of understanding.

William, on the other hand, appeared about to protest, his mouth falling open for a moment in search of something to say—some plausible objection to make—but he found himself responding with, “Thank you. The company will be welcome and it will save some time as I have a few smaller items I was hoping to pick up myself.”

“Can I come too Grandda?” Jem asked eagerly but Claire caught him and drew him to her, keeping a tight hold of him against her side.

“I could actually use your assistance in the kitchen garden,” she told him. “You can help me move some of the plants to make room for the new ones that I’ll be planting tomorrow.”

Jem’s shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “Can ye no get Mandy and Fanny to help ye, Grannie? Wi’out William here they’re liable to get on Mam’s nerves, ye ken.”

“Your mother has finished the plans I needed her to draw up,” William informed Jem, holding the carefully wrapped and sealed packet. “I’m off to send it to my steward so she’ll be able to keep an eye on your sister and Fanny without incident.”

“Besides, yer Gran needs yer strong arms and back to help her wi’ all the digging and carrying,” Jamie added, crouching and tapping Jem’s biceps. “She’s gettin’ feeble in her auld age.”

“I’m getting feeble, am I?” Claire asked with a skeptical chuckle as Jamie cringed, rising to his feet. His knees cracked loudly and Jem giggled. “Well if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle—”

Jamie shut her up with a kiss, her hand coming up to caress the back of his neck. Jem’s face scrunched as he slipped from his grandmother’s clutches and scurried away casting a final glance at William, whose face had gone quite red and who was desperately averting his eyes from the farewell scene.

“I’ll uh… I’ll have a horse fetched for you as well,” he muttered, finally landing on an excuse that would get him away from the intimate scene.

Jamie pulled away and pressed his forehead to Claire’s.

“Be careful,” she advised. “You don’t know what you might encounter on the road,” she added though both knew what she had really meant with her warning.

“Aye,” Jamie promised. “We’ll be back late tonight and I’ll tell ye about it when I’m lying in bed with ye warm beside me.”

Pressing one last kiss to her forehead, he turned and headed outside to meet William and the handful of men who were in charge of the wagon and the goods that needed to be sold.

* * *

The first long stretch of the ride passed in silence but when the wheel of the wagon got temporarily stuck in the mud, Jamie and William pulled ahead of the rest of the group so as not to lose time—they could make the necessary purchases and sales so that the wagon could be loaded with the new supplies as soon as the other men arrived and their cargo was unloaded. The additional time more fully alone also allowed them more privacy.

“I assume there was something you wished to discuss,” William finally confronted Jamie. “Or was it something Mother Claire wanted you to mention?”

Jamie’s wry smile caused William to roll his eyes with exasperation—it made him feel judged in some odd way.

“I dinna ken there’s much to discuss exactly. Only that we’ve both been doing our level best to avoid speaking to one another though I’ve been a guest in yer house for near three months now,” Jamie pointed out. “Ye seem to be getting on well enough wi’ Bree and her brood and I ken ye respect and care about Claire a great deal.”

William did not see anything in Jamie’s observations that required either denial or further affirmation so he remained silent on the subject.

“I wish I kent better where I stood with ye though,” Jamie finally admitted frankly. “I ken… I ken ye were shocked by the truth and rightly felt… betrayed and… disappointed in the whole situation—in _me_ ,” he continued in a low, self-conscious voice. “I… I had hoped that with time ye might…” He stalled though and shrugged it off. “Never mind. I dinna ken what I hoped.”

They rode a bit longer in silence.

“I suppose I don’t quite know what I feel as far as you’re concerned,” William confessed. “I’ve never had the sort of family you do. I had step-cousins but… no siblings and I only rarely saw them—my cousins, that is; I had my grandparents but… I lost them both when I was young… my stepmother too. It’s been just Papa and I for so long… I don’t… _know_ how to be a part of a family like yours—I don’t know what my place might be.”

Jamie nodded and thought quietly letting the silence between them grow again.

“Ye dinna have to make up yer mind right now, ye ken,” Jamie spoke again. “Just know that we’ll have ye whatever way ye’re comfortable with when ye do find it.”

They rode the rest of the way to town in silence again but it was a contented silence, the tension between them having largely dissipated. When they arrived, they split up with Jamie going to the apothecary with Claire’s list while William set out for his usual buyer to make the arrangements for the produce on the wagon that would soon arrive behind them.

Jamie was through at the apothecary rather quickly—Claire’s instructions while lengthy, were thorough and easily followed. He wandered over to where the wagon had just arrived and was being unloaded, ready to offer a hand if it would speed the process along.

“They have it under control,” William assured Jamie. “I uh… I was actually hoping I might get your opinion on something.”

“Aye?” Jamie tried not to sound too eager.

“If you wouldn’t mind following me,” William said leading the way into an establishment that was a bit fancier than the Beardsley trading post but served much the same purpose.


	6. Chapter 6

Jamie assured Claire that night that things were going to be different with William going forward.

“Different?” she asked. “Different… _how_ , exactly?”

“I dinna ken,” Jamie had admitted as he pulled back the covers and slipped into bed beside her, sighing as he relaxed into the downy mattress and the aches of a long day in the saddle began to fade. “I only know that we’ve got past whatever this sticking point has been.”

Claire sighed as she heard Jamie’s breathing shift into a deep, steady rhythm. They’d returned to the house too late for significant observations to be made.

It turned out she didn’t need to go out of her way to surreptitiously observe Jamie and William. When she went to Grey’s chamber at midday to check him one last time before beginning his physical therapy regimen, she found both Jamie and William in the room with him, a chess board between them and matching expressions of concentration on their brows—they even leaned forward with their forefinger held to their compressed lips in an identical way.

Claire glanced to Grey who nodded to her and smiled—he’d seen it too but evidently hadn’t said anything.

Jamie must have caught Grey’s movement from the corner of his eye because he looked up to see Claire watching them and nodded to the board in front of him.

“I dinna ken whether I have the lad right where I want him or if he has me wi’ my back against the wall,” Jamie remarked jovially.

Claire noticed William’s face redden a little before he reached out and moved his piece, taking one of Jamie’s bishops. She turned her attention to Grey asking him when he’d eaten last and how he felt.

“Take a few deep breaths for me,” she instructed, listening carefully. “Good.”

“Don’t do it,” William told Jamie with quiet sincerity.

Claire glanced over again and watched Jamie move his hand away from his knight with a half smile. He instead reached for his queen and moved her six spaces along a straight line. “Checkmate.”

William gave a firm but satisfied nod before he knocked over his king and then immediately set about gathering the pieces and resetting the board.

“It’s refreshing to play with someone new,” William remarked before turning the board so that their colors had switched. “Papa taught me a long time ago but with only him as an opponent I’ve gotten too used to his habitual tricks.” William darted a brief glance to Grey propped up in bed before turning his gaze back to Jamie. Claire noticed a slight twitch in Jamie’s lip before he narrowed his eyes back at the board.

“You think I’m too predictable?” Grey exclaimed with an exasperated laugh. “Claire, help me up,” he insisted trying to swing his legs to the edge of the bed. They didn’t obey him, however, only managing to move them a few inches. Scoffing at his body’s weakness, he pushed back the covers and manually lifted his legs with his hands to maneuver them into position.

Claire reached down to catch Grey under the elbow as he pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled and sat back down.

“Are you dizzy?” she inquired. “I had been planning to show you some exercises you can do to strengthen your muscles while still in bed.”

“Nonsense,” Grey said, clearing his throat. “I’ve dropped a bit of weight is all; it will take a little while to adjust to it.” He eased himself up slower on his second attempt and let Claire guide him and bear more of his weight as he shuffled forward a few steps before pausing to catch his breath. Sweat stood out on his brow.

William and Jamie both looked up and watched him as he made his way slowly across the room to where they were seated. William rose and offered his stepfather his seat, assisting Claire in settling him down again before moving to pull a third chair up between the two older men.

“Come William,” Jamie said teasingly as he leaned back to let Grey make the first move. “Fetch a bit of paper and see how well ye can guess at what yer Papa’s moves will be.”

Grey rolled his eyes but William, his eyes glancing back and forth between his two fathers, appeared taken with the idea and rose to pull a piece of paper and a pencil from the desk in the corner along with a book to use as a writing surface.

After Grey made his opening move and Jamie countered, William glanced over the positioned pieces and made a quick notation before Grey could move again.

Claire grinned as Jamie and William laughed—his first prediction, at least, had been correct. She gathered her supplies and interrupted their game only long enough to tell them, “When John is ready to return to his bed, make sure he gets there in one piece and send someone to find me. I want to make sure he doesn’t overexert himself. And no wagering,” she added. “Or if the three of you do decide to start making bets over this game of yours, send down to the kitchen for some of the roasted sunflower seeds or dried rice or something of that nature.”

“Of course, Mother Claire,” William promised with a fervent nod that overplayed his hand.

She looked to Jamie and saw the pride and amusement in his eyes as he met her gaze. She raised a brow at him and received an equally sarcastic nod before giving up and leaving the three of them alone. She was still grinning when she reached the kitchen garden where Jem was ready and waiting to help her with planting the new seeds Jamie had bought for her.

* * *

Two days later Grey was able to make it down stairs to join everyone at table for the main meals of the day. By the end of the week he was able to journey downstairs and outdoors where a chair was ready for him. Soon after that, the children were urging him about the lawn, encouraging him as he walked the laps prescribed by Claire. It didn’t take long for him to become winded and it was unlikely he’d ever regain all of his former quickness of movement—part of that was the illness having damaged his lungs and part of it, Claire was self-conscious in pointing out, was simply his age catching up with him.

“And there’s nothing that will make you feel quite so old as playing games with the little ones,” Claire observed as they all watched the children running about the lawn. The Frasers and the MacKenzies would be leaving to return to the Ridge early the next morning and it would help everyone involved if the children could expend as much of their energy as possible before that—it might buy them a half a day of easy travel before the children grew bored and began whining.

“I don’t know about that entirely,” William disagreed. “I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so young as I have during my talks with Fanny and Mandy. It’s… enlightening… seeing the world through their eyes.”

“Living vicariously, I believe they call it,” Claire said with a nod.

“D’ye think ye’ll get Jem to help ye weed through yer garden at home, Sassenach?” Jamie asked. “No doubt it’ll have grown over a bit in yer absence.”

“He does seem to have taken to it,” Brianna said with evident surprise.

“That’s only because it’s less boring than watching chess,” Claire pointed out. “And there’s dirt involved.”

“Aye, the lad would be lost if he couldna make a mess of himself on a daily basis,” Roger chimed in before hollering to the children, “Ye have ten minutes more before ye need to make yer way indoors to wash for supper.”

“I suppose that means I ought to start heading in now,” Grey said, pushing himself up from his chair slowly. “Lord, I don’t know that my joints have ever been so stiff.”

“A sign of exercise well managed,” Jamie assured his friend with a hearty pat on the back, following Grey inside to be sure he made it all right.

Brianna and Roger ushered the children inside a few minutes later leaving Claire and William to bring up the rear of the party.

“It will be strange tomorrow,” William said with a note of sadness, “coming down to dine and having that whole space for just Papa and I.”

“And the quiet, too, I imagine. The noise can be a bit much at times but it makes the silences more precious. But, all will soon be as it was before we invaded,” she ended lightly.

William scoffed. “I think we both know that _that_ won’t be the case, Mother Claire.”

“Won’t it?” she asked, hopefully.

He didn’t reply but did look over at her to see her smile warmly before she reached over and slipped her arm through his so he could lead her into the house properly.

* * *

William and Grey milled about among their departing guests quizzing them on their preparedness before the formalities were all taken care of and it was time for the goodbyes.

William had the children stay in place while he went to fetch something. Grey threw an inquisitive look at Claire who shrugged in return before both brought their attention to a smug Jamie who was making a point to avoid eye contact with them.

He returned with a small sack pulling a special knife out and giving it to Jem. The boy’s eyes bugged—it wasn’t a small or dull blade like the ones he was usually entrusted with wielding for everyday use; its bone handle was inlaid with a simple but elegant mother-of-pearl design and the blade had a proper sheath where it could attach to his belt.

“Thank ye,” Jem stammered. “Thank ye,” he repeated, unsure what else he ought to say.

“Your grandfather mentioned you’ve experience with lesser blades but that you were perhaps getting old enough to be properly armed—especially given your treacherous path home and the fact that you have so many women with you in need of protection.”

Jem wasn’t fool enough to think that he and his new knife would be much use against anything that might befall them on the journey back to the Ridge, and he knew that his grannie and mam could both take care of themselves—folk on the Ridge _still_ talked about the time the two of them had killed a buffalo in the yard with little more than their bare hands—but Jem also knew it wasn’t polite to talk back to adults, especially when they were trying to be nice and were giving you gifts.

“Aye,” Jem muttered. “I will. Thank ye.” He turned a bit red as he realized how unoriginal his remarks sounded.

But William had turned to Fanny and Mandy. “I had your grandfather help me pick this out for you,” he told Mandy, pulling a doll with dark curly hair from the sack for her.

“She looks like me,” Mandy gasped with pleasure.

“She can play with Esmeralda,” he suggested.

“Thank ye,” Mandy told William before scurrying away to show her new acquisition to her parents. “What should I call her?” she began asking everyone’s opinions before frowning and shaking her head at all their suggestions.

“And I have one here for you as well,” William told Fanny. Her doll’s hair was straighter and a warmer brown color. “I know you’re perhaps getting a bit old for it…”

“It looks like Jane,” Fanny said with quiet awe.

“I thought so too,” William told Fanny who hugged the doll closer to her.

“Thank you,” Fanny murmured before hurrying forward and hugging William. He hugged her back, relieved once more that he had found somewhere she could be safe—with family.

The children quickly piled into the wagon to show one another their new toys as the adults gathered for their own goodbyes.

“That was an incredibly sweet thing you did,” Claire told William who flushed with the attention.

“Well… isn’t that what… _uncles_ … are supposed to do?” He looked down at his feet as he said it but could still feel their eyes boring into him.

“And what about brothers?” Brianna teased, elbowing him. “Think you can bring yourself to give me a hug?” She embraced him without waiting for his response. “Thank you for asking us to stay. I hope we can return the favor before… well, before too long. Maybe in the fall before the snow sets in,” she suggested. “Though, you might have to sleep on the floor.”

“He can stay at the big house wi’ us,” Jamie asserted. “And you too, John. There’s room enough there for both of ye to stay and ye’re both welcome of course.”

“We’ll have to see how my recovery is going by then,” Grey interjected protectively, refusing to commit to any plans so soon.

“Ye can come to a sermon and tell all my flock that ye were the first I put to sleep wi’ it,” Roger joked with Grey, defusing any lingering tension.

“Until something can be suitably scheduled, I will write to keep you apprised of my steward’s opinions and progress regarding the plans you provided,” William promised Brianna. “I should like to see some of the projects you have planned for the Ridge in person.”

“Are ye through yet?” Mandy called from the wagon, reminding them, “Ye said ye wanted to be off early.”

“That’s our cue,” Brianna said, turning to leave with Roger, throwing their final farewells over their shoulders as they headed to scold their children for their impatience before climbing up to the main seat of the wagon.

“Thank you for everything, Claire,” Grey said with sincerity, his hand pressed to his chest as he inhaled deeply to reassure himself he wouldn’t immediately begin to deteriorate when she and Jamie rode out of the yard. “I hope I have been a reasonable patient—Lord knows you’ve been superbly patient and persistent with my care and that I very likely owe you my life.”

With the danger safely passed, Claire brushed the compliment off. “You don’t need to be melodramatic. And for the record, I’ve had patients far worse than you,” she glanced to Jamie who frowned at her before she added, “of course, I’ve also had better patients. What matters is that you’re safely out of the woods and doing well with regaining your strength. William, you’re in charge of keeping an eye on him and ensuring he keeps up with his exercises.”

“Yes, Mother Claire,” he promised before turning to Jamie.

Claire and Grey drifted away under the pretense of her giving him some last minute instructions.

“Thank you for coming and for bringing her,” William said to Jamie. “She’s the only one Papa would heed. I know I’ve been…”

“Anytime ye need something,” Jamie spoke up as William encountered difficulty finding words, “anything at all, ye dinna need to think twice about asking. And I ken it willna be so easy as far as what to tell folk on the Ridge about who ye are, but ye _are_ welcome.” Jamie hesitated, an internal debate flickering over his face before he leaned in and wrapped his arms loosely around William, tightening a fraction as he whispered low, “I love ye… son.”

William wasn’t sure what words to put to what he was feeling but he raised his arms and squeezed Jamie briefly in response.


End file.
